Unbridled Murder

by Leigh Hearon

  “Well, she’s here, now, Myrna, and ready to take them all off your hands,” Maria told her. Her tone was light, without a whiff of rancor. Annie decided to let her new friend do all the talking. Maria was doing much better than she could have managed.

  “Well, now there’s a problem,” snapped Myrna.

  “What’s that, Myrna?” Maria asked, her tone still pleasant.

  “One of ’em’s blowing green snot. Can’t transport him now.”

  “You think it’s strangles?” Annie couldn’t help joining in. Strangles was a virus that attacked the upper respiratory tract. Swollen lymph nodes were a common symptom, and if the virus caused an airway obstruction, it could prove fatal. Strangles also was highly contagious.

  “Could be. But whether it is or it isn’t, I don’t let unhealthy horses travel. It’s a rule.”

  Annie wanted to laugh, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. None of the horses in the feedlot were healthy, no matter how well they may have looked. How could they be? Too many horses were crammed together and no one knew their backgrounds or health status. Their environment reeked of fear and confusion, and there was constant cutthroat competition for food. With no trained vet tech on site, it was no wonder diseases spread among them. It would be a miracle if any of the horses weren’t sick.

  “But you can take the other three. I’ve put the mustang in a separate pen. When he’s better, you can come collect him.”

  Annie started to speak again, but Maria was ahead of her.

  “I appreciate your concern, Myrna, but frankly, if one horse has strangles, the others are likely to develop it over the next few days as well. Annie’s come a long way to haul the horses, and it would be a hardship to make the trip over the mountains again. They’re all heading straight to her equine vet and will be quarantined, right, Annie?”

  Annie nodded her assent.

  “We’ll accept the risk that one horse has strangles and all the horses may be infected. And we’re prepared to take them right now.”

  The undulating waves of heat were making Annie feel faint. She desperately wanted to flee to the closest form of shade. She wondered how the horses stood it. She’d noticed deep sweat marks encircling the Thoroughbred’s mane when he’d first entered the pen. It appeared shade had not been part of his lifestyle with his previous owner, either. But escape was not possible now. And so Annie stood silently as perspiration dripped off her face and through her shirt.

  Myrna squinted at Maria. “I’ll have to ask George.”

  “Fine, Myrna. Where is he?”

  “Off-site. He’ll be back tonight. If he says okay, then you can pick them up tomorrow, first thing. I won’t be here, but George will. It’s my banking day.”

  “Thank you, Myrna. Okay if Annie and I just take a quick look at her horses before we go?”

  “All right. But you know the rules. No photos. No feeding. And no amateur vet care. George’ll take care of that when he gets back.”

  “We understand. I’ll call you later, Myrna, to see if George agrees with us.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Myrna turned and headed back to her office. Maria and Annie began to walk down the aisle that separated the sick horses from those in the large paddock.

  It was the longest, most painful journey Annie could ever remember making.

  CHAPTER 10

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON, AUGUST 9–WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 10

  As Maria had predicted, Myrna reported that George had given the okay to pick up the horses the next day.

  “Telling us George had to approve was just a ruse,” she told Annie on the phone later that night. “As far as I can tell, George’s responsibilities extend to throwing hay at the horses and making sure the Bobcat is gassed, greased, and lubricated. Myrna’s the control freak in the family. George probably just ducks for cover.”

  “I hope Myrna doesn’t try to pull any more stunts tomorrow,” Annie replied. “I can’t wait to load up and hit the road again. I just wish I could take Eddie with me.”

  “I know. He’s not going to have an easy time in there.”

  Whenever Annie started to think about Eddie, her heart started to ache. She willed herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Before leaving the feedlot yesterday, Annie had suggested to Maria that she square up with Myrna now and get a receipt, so there would be no more hiccups the next morning. Annie had now seen Myrna in action and what she’d seen had not inspired confidence in an easy departure. Maria had readily agreed, and with her help, Annie had ended up giving Myrna half her cash instead of all of it. When Annie had asked for a written receipt, Myrna had hemmed and hawed, but finally scribbled one in pencil on the back of an old envelope. She’d assured Annie that if George let her haul out tomorrow, he’d help her load, although Annie wasn’t at all sure she wanted his help. Maria, to Annie’s regret, would not be there when the horses made their walk to freedom. She held a part-time job at her sons’ elementary school and was on deck tomorrow morning at 7 AM sharp.

  “Someone’s got to pay for those Little League uniforms,” she cheerfully explained to Annie. “And believe me, it’s not their father.” Annie demurred from asking any further questions. She’d assumed Maria was a single mother, although how she managed to look so fabulous and well rested was beyond Annie’s ken.

  “Call me when once you’re on the road,” Maria urged her. “I need to know you got off all right. And call me once they’re settled.”

  “I will.” Annie hesitated, then forged ahead with a question that had been nagging at her. “Maria, before Tony took off for eastern Washington, he told me a buddy of his had alerted him to horses for sale in the Loman feedlot. You wouldn’t happen to know who that was, do you?”

  “You’re speaking to her. Tony and I went way back. His sisters and I met when we all won leadership scholarships in high school. We met in Bellevue at a conference. Tony showed up for the final award ceremony, and we just clicked. It was our mutual love for horses, you know.”

  “Did you ever think of dating him?”

  “Did I ever! But he was there, and I’m here, and our lives just never crossed to make that happen. But he was a good friend as long as I knew him. I know his death hit his family hard. I’ll miss him, Annie, but my work keeps me focused.”

  “So it was your Facebook page that we used to select the horses?”

  “Sure was. I go out to the feedlot once a week to take photos of any new arrivals and post the ones that look most adoptable.”

  “Be sure to get Eddie’s good side when you take photos of him this week. And give him a carrot for me.”

  “Will do. Although Eddie may not know what a carrot is.”

  Once more, Annie’s heart inwardly keened, and she quickly ended the call. She’d checked back into her motel and spent the long summer evening setting up the trailer so all it needed was four horses and a key in the ignition in order to make a quick getaway. As she filled and hung Jessica’s hay bags, spread shavings on the floor, and double-checked each window and vent, she marveled at how neat and tidy everything was, inside and outside the trailer. Jessica’s standards for maintaining her veterinary vehicles were exemplary, and Annie blessed her for it.

  She called Jessica when she was satisfied the job was done. Annie still didn’t know precisely where she was delivering the horses when she landed on the Peninsula tomorrow afternoon.

  Jessica was none too pleased when she learned one of the horses might be in the early stages of a strangles virus.

  “I didn’t feel I had much of a choice, Jessica,” Annie said a bit testily. “If I leave him, the feedlot owner probably will find room for him on the transport. As far as I know, I may be seeing the van rolling in while I’m driving out.”

  Myrna had been conspicuously coy when Annie had asked when the transport was due to arrive. She guessed the feedlot owner held this information close to her chest for good reason. Annie could envision angry protests in front of the feedlot if the date
the horses were loaded for the slaughterhouse was made public. But not knowing how much time Eddie and the other horses had before their fates were sealed was making Annie’s stomach tie up in knots.

  “I understand,” Jessica said, although Annie could tell she was still not comfortable with the news. “The place where they’ll be quarantined is a large ranch about eight miles from my clinic. It belongs to one of my clients, and he’s doing me an extreme favor. I’m sure he’ll be as thrilled as I am to know a small strangles epidemic may erupt on his property.”

  Annie fleetingly wondered whether, in fact, she should just take the three and return for the mustang. Then again, the little horse hadn’t looked that sick. Not that lack of symptoms told the whole story.

  “In theory, it should be fine,” Jessica said thoughtfully. “There are twenty horses already stabled there, but your four will be housed a half mile away, in the original stalls. When my client bought the ranch five years ago, he overhauled the place and constructed an indoor arena with closed-in stalls around it. You’ll use the old entrance and the bunch from the feedlot shouldn’t have any contact with the other horses. I’ve checked out the old stalls, and they’ll be fine. Each has a run-in, and there’s a common paddock area with tons of grass and plenty of shade. I agree, the damage is done—by now, they’re either infected with strangles or not, although traveling side by side for six hours pretty much guarantees it.”

  “If it’s any consolation, the mustang’s lymph nodes felt perfectly normal. He may just have a runny nose. I couldn’t take his temp, though. The owner frowns on anyone practicing medicine except her husband, who I’m sure is a trained and licensed veterinarian.”

  “What’s his name? I’ll check him out.”

  “Just kidding, Jessica. I can guarantee you that no one with a veterinary license has been at the feedlot for a long time, if ever. Ditto for a farrier.”

  “Well, just get them home safely. I’ll be waiting at the ranch for you. Let me give you the address. You’ve probably passed right by it a million times.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Annie could hear trouble as soon as she turned onto the dusty road that led to the feedlot. High-pitched squeals and whinnies of terror flooded her ears, and she craned her neck to the right, trying to see what danger was threatening the horses. But she was a hundred yards too soon to see the feedlot, or anything around it.

  Then rage poured through her. It had to be the transport van. It had arrived even earlier than she had, although Annie’s watch told her it was just shy of 8:00 AM, and she was right on schedule. But it seemed Myrna had had another plan in mind. Not while I’m driving this trailer, Annie thought angrily. Those horses are coming with ME.

  Annie instinctively stepped on the gas pedal and quickly discovered this was not a good idea. Behind her, the trailer began to rock from side to side, and Annie compensated by gently compressing the brake to get it back on track. She maintained this safe but steady speed as she approached the electronic gate. To her surprise, it was already wide open. She drove straight through, her eyes frantically scanning the property for the van of death. It had to be much larger than what she was driving.

  There was none. But what had assaulted her senses a mile back was overpowering here. The horses in the pen were frantic, racing around in frenzy and trying to escape. Many were rearing and pawing the sky, only to land solidly on their front hooves and lunge off at a gallop. The noise, agitation, whirlwind of hooves, and smell of fear had turned the paddock into a scene of utter mayhem.

  “Stay,” she ordered Wolf. She didn’t want his herding instincts to kick in now; it was far too dangerous for the heeler to be anywhere near the pen. In one fluid motion, she turned off the ignition and leapt out her truck. Racing over to the paddock, she saw a bright yellow Kubota parked at a strange angle in the aisle. The back was filled with hay, and she thought she saw a bale in the front loader. As she neared it, she realized the engine was still running. That was odd, because she was sure no one was in the driver’s seat. Annie slowed down to a jog and stepped in front of the farm vehicle. And then she froze.

  Just inside the paddock, where the horses usually bent through tight bars to get their daily ration of hay, was a body, or what was left of one. Annie could see two steel-toed work boots in the rubble, but beyond that, the body was wholly unrecognizable. Two horses were systematically pounding on the bloody mess in front of them, rearing up and coming down with the full force of their front hooves. Whose body was it? Could it be George? Maybe. Whoever it was, he was being torn asunder. And judging by the ferocity of the attack from on high, the horses knew exactly what they were doing.

  For once, Annie’s trusty smartphone failed to work. The little bars Hannah had informed her told her how much reception she had were now one thin flat line. Cursing, she ran over to Myrna’s office, a rundown double-wide trailer with a television satellite dish perched on top. She tugged on the front door, but it refused to open. She ran around to the back but saw no other entrance. She scanned the ground in front of her and picked up a large rock, then jogged back to the entrance. Heaving the stone with all her might, she managed to break one of the small glass panes in the upper part of the front door.

  Dashing back to the truck, she grabbed two socks out of her overnight bag and wrapped her hand and upper arm in them. She gingerly placed her swathed hand through the broken pane and after a brief search, found and flipped the dead bolt on the other side. She was in.

  Fortunately, Myrna still believed in landlines. She’d have to out here in the sticks, where reception was zilch. Annie picked up the phone and punched 9-1-1. Two minutes later, she hung up the phone and sank wearily into one of the office’s plastic chairs. She put her head in her hands. If Tony had thought his trip was one long list of unmitigated disasters, her trip was rapidly catching up. At least she was still alive. For now.

  * * *

  Annie had been assured that deputies from the sheriff’s office were on their way, but she was taking no chances. Unless the riot in the paddock was squelched in short order, real damage could be done. More to the point, many of the horses would figure out that they could clear the five-foot chain-link fence that girded the paddock. She didn’t want to think about the injuries the horses might have already incurred, and immediately thought of Eddie. She hadn’t seen him in the commotion. And what about the other three horses? Where were they? She assumed the mustang was safe, since he was in quarantine, and knew the other three were allegedly sequestered, but until the horses settled, no one was safe, including her, should she be so foolhardy as to enter the pen.

  Annie knew the smell and sight of death was a major reason the horses were acting so crazed now—that, and perhaps the violence that had preceded it. As prey animals, horses were constantly on the lookout for any danger to their existence. They knew something had died violently, and that had put them on high alert. But instead of fleeing, as any horse would, these animals were forced to remain in a cage along with the dead, and it was driving them crazy.

  She decided she would have to remove the body. Only if she rid the paddock of the source of death did she have a chance in hell of calming the herd. Technically, she knew, this would be tampering with evidence. Annie had tampered with evidence once before in a murder investigation, and rather cavalierly. She wasn’t proud of it now and didn’t want to do it again. But unless she did something, a precipitous situation might spill over into disaster. And she had no assurance that the law enforcement officials on their way would do anything to mitigate the horses’ anxiety.

  At least she could try to preserve the scene. After all, now she had a camera with her at all times. She’d forgotten about it two nights ago. She’d been so mesmerized by the sight of horses running free that it had never occurred to her to try to take photos. And if she had, she’d have had to do it by using what Hannah called the “burst,” which took rapid-fire photos to capture anything in motion.

  It was precisely what she ne
eded now. She pulled it out and walked back toward the pen. Fortunately, the two horses in front had ceased their merciless pummeling and now were uneasily pacing up and down the fence line. She took as many photos as she could of the body, the scene, and the surroundings. And wondered how she was going to remove a body from a pen with fifty unpredictable horses inside.

  CHAPTER 11

  WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 10

  Fortunately, Annie was spared from coming up with an answer. As if on cue, three county patrol vehicles barreled through the open gate, strobe lights flashing, but thankfully, without the wail of sirens in their wake. Before she could move, three officers had surrounded her. The largest, a man in a Stetson that Dan would have coveted, spoke first.

  “You the one who reported the accident?”

  Annie found her mouth was exceptionally dry. She nodded.

  “Name?”

  “Annie Carson.” She watched as an ambulance pulled in behind the police cars, and several medics spilled out. The last two were hauling a stretcher. Lots of luck, Annie thought.

  The man in the Stetson snapped his fingers in front of her. “Ms. Carson? Pay attention.”

  Her eyes reverted back to his. They were a dark, steely grey, all business, and, she thought, they showed not a shred of compassion.

  “I arrived at eight o’clock to pick up four horses,” she began.

  “We’ll get your statement later. Right now, just answer my questions. Did you know the deceased?”

  A laugh started to burble up in Annie’s chest. She fought it down.

  “I have no idea who’s in that pen.”

  “If you don’t know who it is, why were you here?”

  “As I said, I came to pick up four horses. I dealt only with Myrna, and I’d only met her yesterday, when I came by to settle up.” She glanced over to the horse pen, where several paramedics crouched down by the body. “If that’s her husband, George, I never met him. He wasn’t on the property when I was here. At least, that’s what Myrna told me.”